


Rightfully So

by elysiantales



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: "hell" "shit" thats all, Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, F/M, Fluff, Post S3, Romance, cute cute cute, my boy bell is so smitten, praimfaya never happens, requited romance, super mild swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiantales/pseuds/elysiantales
Summary: Clarke thinks Bellamy is handsome, and rightfully so.Bellamy thinks Clarke is gorgeous, and rightfully so.Clarke loves Bellamy.Bellamy loves Clarke.Rightfully so.(Also known as; Bellamy and Clarke love each other but the apparently fearless duo is afraid of their own hearts.)





	1. Handsome

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic I wrote on my phone lol this will have 3 parts but they're all 1k long so its q a quick read.
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated!

Sometimes, Clarke worries about Bellamy.

She worries that the ghosts that haunt her also haunt him. Clarke worries that he also dreams of Mount Weather and death like she does, which is ridiculous. It’s ridiculous because she knows that everyone on the ground has the same nightmares, but some people are have them worse.

Clarke just wants to bear the pain of everyone’s grievances so they don’t have to.

Everyone including Bellamy.

Bellamy… Bellamy is different. He’s just as headstrong and stubborn as Clarke, meaning that he has just as many ghosts as her.

Only Clarke really knows that. She knows how they need each other. She knows that have they have a mutual admiration for each other and that Bellamy would be the first person she takes into battle with her.

And so, Clarke walks into Bellamy’s room one day, making up some excuse to make sure he’s doing okay, because she sure as hell isn’t.

She’s saved the world and back, but the ghosts of Mount Weather and the Grounders at the dropship still scream at her.

Her keycard waves against Bellamy’s door lock, because she’s Clarke freaking Griffin and she made Raven crack the keycard so she could get into the armory.

She wanted to sneak out with Bellamy to hunt. She didn’t care what she hunted. Her mind felt like it was closing in on itself, and it didn’t help that her room in Arkadia looked almost identical to her cell in the Ark. She wanted to sneak out, which was the easy part, but convincing Raven to hack into her keycard was easier.

The only downside (if you could call it a downside) was that it also opened every single bedroom in Arkadia. Raven insists that it was a technical flaw, but when she handed Clarke the keycard, Raven winked at her.

Bellamy made Raven do the same thing. They’ve had these unlock-all cards since they got back from Polis.

The day after, Bellamy had the same keycard as her, and they snuck out for the rest of the day, eating nuts and berries and swimming in cold ponds.

“Care for a swim?” He asked, nodding in the direction of the pond. Clarke stuck a finger in the pond, and it was freezing cold.

“It’s too cold.” She replied, to which Bellamy stuck his hand in too.

He shook his head. “It’s not that cold.”

“Yes it is.” Clarke said pointedly. “If it isn’t, then why don’t you take a swim?”

Bellamy took a step back. “No way.” To which Clarke chuckled.

“I thought it wasn’t cold?” She asked sarcastically.

Bellamy opened his mouth to say something in his defense. “Well–” He begins. But before he could elaborate on an excuse that would make Clarke only chuckle, she smiled mischievously and pushed him into the water.

With the sharpest reflexes only earned from battle, Bellamy grabbed Clarke’s wrist and pulled her down into the water with him.

And they were laughing and splashing water in each other’s faces. They were happy and liberated and free, but they still swore they heard gunshots.

Since that day, Clarke sleeps with a handgun beside her sidetable, and Bellamy sleeps with a knife on his.

Clarke waves the keycard on his door, and it gives a small beep and flashes a tiny green light. She knocks twice and opens the door.

“Hey, Bellamy…” She opened the door further to see a shirtless Bellamy Blake wincing at his ugly scars.

Clarke knew he had scars. She tended to them on more than one occasion, but the sight of the scars that she may have inflicted still make her ghosts yell.

“Don’t do that!” She exclaims, as Bellamy flinches in surprise. “I mean, don’t pick at your scabs. That’ll cause infection.” Clarke tries, softer.

“Damn it, Clarke!” Bellamy quips, pulling on a shirt. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Clarke pulls a look that says ‘I’m sorry.’ and pulls Bellamy’s shirt off. “I’ll help you with that.” She says, putting the shirt away and opening a panel concealing a first aid kit.

She pulls a salve and a spool of bandages from the med kit. The first one she sees is a barely-gushing baby pink wound on his neck. Clarke rubs the disinfectant on the wound and Bellamy groans in response to the sharp pain.

“I’m sorry. But this’ll prevent infection.” Clarke says, offering a small smile.

“Don’t apologise,” Bellamy pants, evidently out of breath. “It will prevent infection.” He chuckles, which makes Clarke chuckle.

She wraps up Bellamy’s wound and she takes her time.

Suddenly, she’s not looking at the wounds. She’s looking at Bellamy’s tan skin and freckled complexion. She’s looking at his sculpted muscles and the way his chest lifts when he exhales.

Clarke knows Bellamy is handsome. He is handsome. Not the conventional handsome that makes you stop and stare for a while, but the kind of handsome that grows on you. The kind of the handsome that dawns on you at a 3am revelation.

Bellamy is handsome, down to his freckles and to his curly hair, that Clarke prefers messy rather than slicked back.

Not that Clarke would tell anyone, but Bellamy Blake is the kind of handsome that still looks handsome bloodied and beaten. Bellamy Blake is the kind of handsome that is handsome, he is the kind of handsome that makes him look pretty damn beautiful rather than handsome.

She’s looking at Bellamy and Bellamy is looking at her.

And Clarke Griffin thinks Bellamy Blake is handsome, and rightfully so.

 


	2. Gorgeous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy thinks Clarke is gorgeous, and rightfully so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only .5k words long but I will add to it some time soon!

Bellamy worries about Clarke every waking moment and half the time he sleeps. He’d never admit that, or maybe not in this lifetime.

He worries that Clarke will run off on them again, and even if it’s selfish, he worries that Clarke will leave him again. Bellamy tells himself to distance himself from the Griffin girl, but he can feel himself falling for her over again.

Bellamy just wants to be there for Clarke. He wants to be there so that she won’t have to bear everything alone.

Clarke messed up her shoulder, and it’s so bad that she can’t even bandage it for herself. She was limping in the dining hall, and Bellamy takes her plate and scoops it full of all the things he knows she likes. Bread and peaches. Cornmeal and soya. “Just a strain,” She insists, but Bellamy knows better.

“A dead commander is no use to us.” He shuts his mouth as he says it, thinking that Clarke might believe he’s taking a jab at her deceased lover, but Clarke laughs it off.

“You think I’m commander?” She asks, her eyes widening.

“No,” Bellamy scoffs and waves it off, which only irritates Clarke further. “I think I’m commander.” He says, winking at the girl. “No but really Clarke. The people turn to you more than they turn to Abby and Kane combined.” Clarke gives Bellamy a look that he can’t decipher, and follows him to a table.

They sit down at a secluded table far from everyone else, and he pulls down the sleeve to see a purplish bruised shoulder. He faux tsks at her, and reaches for the roll of bandages in her other hand.

Rags and bandages were a staple part of her now, with new wounds flaring before old ones could heal. Of course, the emotional wounds ran deep within her, but the physical ones seemed to bloom and heal overnight. The same could be said for Bellamy, who came on the ground to save his sister, and instead fell in love with a stubbornly gorgeous sky girl of his own.

Bellamy takes his time wrapping the sprain, listening to Clarke’s labored breaths and taking cheeky glimpses at her ocean blue eyes. Eyes so blue that they were the brightest thing he had ever seen.

Suddenly, he realizes why Finn and Lexa both loved Clarke. Hell, why anyone would love Clarke. She was pretty, yes. But she was also headstrong, and wise, and brave. Clarke Griffin could quote Oppenheimer as if it was second nature. She was all those things and more, but she was also just a girl.

Bellamy thinks back to when they were both sitting around a campfire, long after the others have left. He certainly stayed because of Clarke, but he didn’t know why she stayed. (Spoiler: Clarke stayed because of Bellamy.)

“Do you think that we could have lived a normal life if we were the last on Earth?” Clarke asked, breathing softly and eyes blinking slowly.

Bellamy thought about this question, and he had thought about it before. “Maybe. If we were the last of our kind, then maybe we would have died too. The radiation or something.” She was silent for a while, and Bellamy chuckled deeply.

“Too grim?” He asked. “Too grim.” Clarke replies, nodding in agreement. And the two talked about nothing, and Bellamy wondered if we would have been normal. Just teenagers with inside jokes and Internet connection.

Clarke’s gorgeous was only dawning on him now. He realizes how lovely her soul is, and how selfless and brave she is. Bellamy realizes that he needs Clarke, and that Clarke needs him.

My God, did Bellamy love Clarke. He loved Clarke Griffin, and rightfully so.

 

 

 


End file.
